


A Life Worth Living

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BELLE DOESN'T DIE, Canon divergent from "Beauty", Episode Fix-it, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20933501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: A fix-it/improving fic for OUAT 7x04, "Beauty". Fills in some of the blank spaces between Gideon's first birthday and the scene on the bridge.





	A Life Worth Living

“Gideon, wait!” Belle called as their son dashed ahead and clattered up and over the steep curve of the high-arched bridge. “Wait!”

He paused at the bottom, looking back, already tall for his age at ten. “I won’t go far,” he promised. “Come on, Tabby!”

Unlike her brother, it was obvious that seven year-old Tabitha, with her small, fine bones, was going to take after her parents. She took an automatic step after Gideon, then looked back at her mother. “May I?”

Belle sighed. “Oh, all right. But be careful, and stick with your brother. Stay within range of our voices!”

Tabitha beamed her current gap-toothed smile and took off after Gideon, her dark hair flying out behind her. Her brother waited to grab hold of her hand before they both disappeared into the trees at the far end of the bridge.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. “They’re just excited. Children aren’t much for scenic views, no matter how stunning.”

“Well, I am,” said Belle, taking his hand in hers. “Did you know that some books say that this bridge is older than time itself? For thousands of years, people have made sacrifices here, making their wishes in this very river. Imagine that kind of ancientness.”

Rumpelstiltskin smiled and stroked her hair, playing with the one white lock that sprang from her temple. “I don’t have to. It’s not the only one to see the generations come and go.”

“Oh, Rumpel – “ Belle began in exasperation, turning more fully to face him.

“Belle, I’ve been alive for many, many years, and of those years, the last ten have been the happiest I could have ever imagined.” His eyes were full of love as he looked at her.

Belle smiled and ran her hands over his arms, her fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sleeves. “And we’re just beginning.”

“I know. But there’s only one way I want to llve this life from now on – as a mortal.”

“What are you saying?” Her heart seemed to stop for a split second, then began to beat faster, in hope and excitement.

“I have a confession. This isn’t just another stop on our adventure; I started thinking after we first read about this place. But I didn’t want to say anything until I’d seen the bridge for myself, until I’d felt whether there was magic here. And there is, Belle, I can feel the energy of all those wishes here. It’s like a quiet hum all around us. I’ve been a slave to the Dark One for too long, and now I can only hope that this river can grant me my one and only wish – “ He reached out and caressed her shoulder. “To live a singular, natural life with you.”

“There’s nothing that I would love more.” Belle took both of his hands in hers and squeezed. “But how?”

“_True Love’s Kiss can break any curse_,” he quoted, smiling.

“But we kiss all the time.” Her face showed her puzzlement.

“Not with intent. Not in a place imbued with the power of belief built up over the centuries. And not when I was fully, 100% sure that I could live without the power, that I didn’t need it anymore.”

It had been years since he’d regularly used magic, ever since that time during Gideon’s first year when Belle had come upon him using his magic to make Gideon’s stuffed animals romp around him, their boy laughing with delight. She’d smiled at the sight, but later that night had turned to him with a face that showed that she been been thinking.

“All the magic that you do, it all comes with a price, yes? What if that price has been taken out of our relationship, caused us to make stupid decisions, to hide things, to lie and doubt one another? I know that we’re in a good place right now, but every time I look at Gideon I think of how we almost lost him, how lucky we are to be given this second chance. And I don’t want anything to screw it up.”

Rumpelstiltskin had blanched, his gut clenching with a sick feeling of dread. Because it was possible. Storybrooke had finally settled down after the Black Fairy’s defeat, and he had had no call for any potions or spells. But magic had become ingrained into his very nature, and some times it was easier to poof someplace rather than walking, or light a fire with a wave of his hand, or use his powers like he had this afternoon, to entertain a four-month-old baby. They were all small things, things that he barely had to think about – but Belle was right. They added up. And they were unnecessary.

He had vowed then and there to stop using magic unless it _was _absolutely necessary. What if the very thing that he felt allowed him to protect Belle and Gideon had in fact been extracting its price from their happiness all along?

It had been hard, centuries of habit needing to be broken, but he had done it. By the time they had left Storybrooke on their travels, it was no longer his first instinct to do things by magic. Outside of Storybrooke, in a world that was virtually without magic – not quite, because he had felt it, in a few places they’d visited – it hadn’t even been an option. They’d started their travels in the United States before moving on to other countries. Whenever they’d felt the need to rest and recharge their batteries – travelling being tiring even without a baby in tow – they had found a place they’d liked, and settled down for a while. There had been the beach house they’d rented for a month in California, and the rustic wood cabin in the Adirondack Mountains of New York – except it was probably too big to be called a cabin, but it had felt like one. They’d settled for an entire year in a charming village in the Austrian Alps to give Gideon some routine while he got the challenge of toilet training sorted out, and then for an extended stay in Cambridge, England, after Belle had become pregnant again and they’d wanted the reassurance of a doctor and hospital nearby. Tabitha had been born there, and Rumpelstiltskin wondered how long they might have stayed in that beautiful city, rich with culture and history and enough libraries to delight Belle down to the depths of her very soul, if they hadn’t decided on a visit to Storybrooke, to see Henry graduate from high school.

They’d kept in touch with the occasional postcard and letter and souvenir, Henry always writing back with prompt thanks when he received a present and keeping them apprised of what was going on in Storybrooke. Usually the news was less than exciting, but when he had informed them of his upcoming graduation, saying that he really didn’t expect them to come all that way but he was officially inviting them anyway, they had decided to go, the look of delighted surprise on their grandson’s face making the trip worthwhile. They had spent the summer, airing out their house, introducing Tabitha and letting Henry and Gideon build a relationship. It didn’t take long for Gideon to warm up to his nephew when Henry brought over a whole box full of his old toys for Gideon to play with, or for Gideon to make friends with Neal Nolan when they met at the ice cream shoppe. Soon Gideon was spending frequent play dates on the Nolan farm and working his way steadily through the children’s books in the Storybrooke Library. Astrid was working there now, and had made the children’s section her own personal domain, turning it into something that looked like a bright and cheerful corner of the Enchanted Forest. And Belle was happy to see the whole library thriving under the care of the young woman from the Land of Untold Stories whom she had recruited to help run it when Gideon had been returned to them as an infant. She had wanted to spend as much time with him as possible then, and had known instantly that Matilda Wormwood would make an excellent librarian. It was nice to see the place busy with patrons, and a list of upcoming programs tacked to the bulletin board next to the restrooms. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin had begun to debate staying and starting Gideon at the elementary school in the fall, when Henry had come to them, full of excitement.

Anton had never given up on the magic beans, and had quietly been experimenting with crossbreeds, creating a new, smaller bean plant from the salvaged remains of the original field, one that would need less resources to grow, and take less time to ripen. This was the first year that he had succeeded in creating a near replica of the original, with the power to open a portal between realms. Leroy had come running down Main Street, shouting the news. And Henry had wanted to see the Enchanted Forest at long last, to have his own adventure.

“And you think they’re just going to give you a bean?” Rumpelstiltskin asked doubtfully. “To go gallivanting? Two, actually, you’d need one to return.” He’d been letting Gideon have a try at spinning, having taken up the craft again during Gideon’s first year, the desire to create something for his son out of wool that he’d spun himself overcoming the memories of being forced to spin by Zelena while she’d held him captive. He’d had to buy a new wheel, one untainted by that experience, and he didn’t think he’d ever touch straw again, but it wasn’t gold that he wanted, but the softest of yarns. He’d shown Belle how to knit, and soon they’d been able to wrap Gideon in a blanket that they had created between them, with little booties and a hat soon following, imbuing the wheel with new memories.

“I have as much right to a bean as anyone,” Henry said, the look of determination settling on his face reminding Rumpel heartbreakingly of Bae. “And I want to see where my family comes from. Plus, I’m the Author; shouldn’t that count for something?”

“Henry go somewhere?” Gideon asked worriedly.

“Yeah, kid – the Enchanted Forest. Fairy tale land! It’s where most of the people in town come from. It’s got dragons and unicorns and castles, stuff like that.”

“I’ve seen castles,” Gideon said matter-of-factly.

“See?” Henry gestured dramatically. “Even the five-year-old in this family has seen more of the world than me!”

“You could go backpacking across Europe,” suggested Belle dryly. “Less chance of ogres.”

“More chances of plane crashes and terrorist bombings,” Henry retorted. “There are dangers everywhere.”

Rumpelstiltskin inclined his head, glancing at Belle. “The boy has a point.”

“But I’ve never seen a dragon,” Gideon put in, still thinking about what Henry had said.

“And you don’t want to,” Rumpelstiltskin said firmly. “Dragons eat little boys for breakfast.”

“Do they, mama?” Gideon demanded.

“Yes, actually, they might,” Belle said honestly. “You’d make a nice little snack.”

Gideon fell silent, thinking about this.

“Maybe you could put in a good word for me with the town council?” Henry asked hopefully. “There’s going to be a meeting, about the beans.”

“Your father would kill me if I let you go off to the Enchanted Forest alone,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

“Well, you can’t come, you’ve got the kids to look after. And I don’t really want to be tagging around after my parents or grandparents anyway; I want to find my own story. No offense.”

“What about griffins?”

They looked down at Gideon.

“Would griffins eat me?”

“They_ could_, but they probably wouldn’t. Leave them alone and they’ll leave you alone, usually,” Belle said.

“A unicorn wouldn’t eat me,” he said confidently.

“No, but they might nibble at your hair.” Rumpelstiltskin tugged on a silky strand, teasing. “Especially after you’ve been rolling around on the ground and you smell nice and grassy.”

Belle cocked her head and looked at Gideon thoughtfully. “Henry, would you mind keeping an eye on the kids for a few minutes? I want to have a word with your grandfather privately.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Henry glanced at Tabby in her playpen, but she was engrossed in the task of stacking some fat plastic rings of graduating sizes atop one another in the correct order. “C’mon, Gideon, show me what you can do with your remote-controlled car.”

Puzzled, Rumpelstiltskin followed Belle into the library when she crooked her finger at him and closed the door behind them.

“I’ve had an idea,” she said.

* * *

As expected, none of the Charmings nor Regina were enthusiastic about Henry’s wish to visit the Enchanted Forest when he petitioned for two beans at the town council that had been called to decide what to do with them.

“I’m old enough to take care of myself!” he protested. “You’ve all been there.”

“Let the lad have an adventure,” said Hook jovially.

“Not reassuring coming from a pirate,” retorted Emma.

“Ex-pirate.” Surprisingly, he had turned into not a bad deputy, Emma having appealed to his pride in running an orderly ship. Storybrooke was now his ship, she had told him, and it was his job to enforce its laws just like he had enforced the rules on his ship. He’d had Keith Nottingham locked up for the night on a drunk and disorderly charge before his first week had been up, and if he’d been a little rough, well, the only one complaining had been Nottingham.

“Would it help,” broke in Belle, “If we went along with him? I think Gideon would enjoy seeing the Enchanted Forest, and there are still many places that I always wanted to visit and never got a chance to do so. We could go through together, and then split up. Henry could go off on his own, but if he runs into any trouble that he can’t handle, all he would have to do is call for Rumpel and he could go help Henry in a flash. Plus, if we each had a bean, Henry could just create another portal and return to Storybrooke whenever he wanted, or if he needed to.”

“But what about you guys?” asked Emma. “What if you want to come home before him?”

“We could check up on him before we return, and if I didn’t feel confident that he could continue to take care of himself, we’d either stay longer or convince him to come home with us.”

“I think I’d be okay with that,” David allowed.

Snow looked from him to Henry, and then nodded. “Sounds fair. Yes, all right.”

“it would make me feel better to know that Rumpel’s within reach if Henry needs any help,” Regina agreed. “But do you really want to go off traipsing around the Enchanted Realms with a two year-old toddler in tow?”

“We’ll get a wagon,” Belle said. “A covered one, like the tinkers use.”

“You’ll be washing out dirty diapers in cold streams,” Regina warned her. “No Pampers.”

“We’ll manage,” said Rumpelstiltskin drily. “Just like everybody else who lives there.”

Regina thought of Henry’s early days, and shuddered. “Well, on your own head be it.” She looked at Henry and sighed. “This is important to you, isn’t it?” He nodded. “All right, just promise you won’t try to take on any dragons.”

“Not unless it’s absolutely necessary,” he promised. All eyes then turned to Emma.

“Okay, let’s talk about how you’re going to handle the basics,” she said practically. “Food, shelter, warmth. You don’t know how to catch food and prepare it for cooking. And you’re going to need new clothes if you want to blend in, and I don’t want you stealing them.”

“Well, I thought that Mom – “ he turned to Regina. “ – could change some of my money so that it looks like the kind of coins they use in the Enchanted Forest. So I could buy anything I need.”

“I could do that,” Regina agreed. “I’ll make sure you have enough for food and lodging for a while, if you don’t let yourself get taken in by some unscrupulous innkeeper. I’ll change some of your clothing into something suitable as well.”

“That’s great.” Henry grinned. He turned back to Emma. “Well, Mom?”

“How do you plan to get around?’ asked Emma. “On foot?”

“Um, how likely is it that I’d get burned as a witch if I took my motorcycle?” he asked, afraid that he already knew the answer. It had been his graduation present, although he was pretty sure that Regina had been under the impression that it would come in handy zipping around some college town, not the Enchanted Forest. He _had_ been thinking of college, and looking at different places, but… He couldn’t pass up this chance. He hated the thought of leaving the motorcycle, though.

“Absolutely not,” declared Emma. “You want to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, there’s the little matter of a lack of gas stations in the Enchanted Forest?”

“I was hoping one of you could maybe enchant the engine to run on something else,” admitted Henry sheepishly.

“What part of “all magic comes with a price” have you forgotten?” Rumpelstiltskin asked wryly. “Making one coin look like another coin, that’s easy, doesn’t take much magic. Same with changing the cut of some clothes. Enchanting a gas engine to run without gas for an indefinite period of time? No, that’s a different story. I have to agree with your mother here. Walk or buy a horse.”

Henry glanced at Regina, but she shook her head. “It’ll be a good chance to improve your riding skills,” she said encouragingly.

Henry sighed. “All right, no motorcycle. So, do we get the beans?”

Emma threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine. But I don’t have to like it. Is there any way we could work out a way to send messages, though, or get in contact?”

“I might be able to do something with mirrors,” Regina said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure if it’ll work, but Henry can take along a hand mirror, and I’ll try to enchant it to connect with one in your house. We’ll set up a time for you to tune in on your end, and Henry can try to contact you.”

“That would be fantastic,” said Emma gratefully. “And if not…I expect you to come home at some point, Henry.”

“I promise, Mom.” Henry threw his arms around her in a hug. “Thanks. And all you guys too.” He nodded at everyone.

They went through the portal – which had appeared as a ring of fire instead of the usual nebulous green swirl – two weeks later, Henry having gotten drilled in swordfighting and archery and how to start a fire without a match (although he still planned on taking plenty) and Rumpelstiltskin and Belle utilising the time to use up all the perishable foods in their house and try to prepare Gideon for the fact that they were going somewhere without such things as refrigerators and electricity and indoor plumbing. They savoured their last evenings catching fireflies in the yard, and days spent berry-picking, and eating burgers at Granny’s. They took picture after picture of Tabby sleeping peacefully in Gideon’s old nursery and of Gideon in his new bedroom that they’d let him help decorate.It had been a good visit, one they had enjoyed, making new memories and fondly remembering the old ones of Gideon’s first year growing up in their house. But without Henry around, and the chance for their children to build a relationship with their only other living relative, the idea of staying had lost its appeal for the moment. There were also calls and emails sent to Cambridge, to secure their house and things on that end. An unexpected opportunity had come up, they said, and they didn’t know when they’d be back. Maybe a few months, maybe a year at the most, they guessed. That was what they said and what they thought as they went through the portal with Henry, Belle clutching Tabitha tight and Rumple with Gideon’s hand held firmly in one of his own, the other holding onto the handle of a large leather trunk, which might have held a lot more than the average person would have thought, and which might have been floating almost imperceptibly above the ground, to make for easy towing.

“Cloth diapers and safety pins,” Belle had said, when they’d begun making out a list of things to take. “The children’s clothes, and ours.”

“They can each take their favourite stuffed animal, and some toys that won’t seem out of place,” Rumpelstiltskin had added. “Maybe some foods that they’re used to. Their blankets.”

“Books,” Belle had said. “Sewing supplies. Toiletries.”

“First aid supplies. Plenty of gold. Maybe a few things from my lab.”

“Pens, pencils, paper. If Gideon’s going to start school a year late, we’ll have to make sure that he’s up to speed with his peers.” Clean, white paper was a precious thing in the Enchanted Forest, not to be wasted by a child practising his letters.

Fortunately they were used to travelling light, but they also were used to knowing that they would be able to easily purchase needed everyday items at local stores. They had to think about what would not be available in the Enchanted Forest, or hard to obtain at best. But at last they had shoved the lid of the trunk down, and latched the trunk shut.

“Wow,” said Henry as he turned and watched the ring of fire close behind them. “That was cool.” He looked his grandfather over. “You don’t look any different.”

Rumpelstiltskin had been prepared to find himself back to looking like a monster with scaly, greenish-grey skin, and had prepared the children for the possible change. But he was pleasantly surprised to see his hand still looking perfectly human, and ran it over his face, feeling nothing but his normal human skin.

“I don’t know why ,” Rumpelstiltskin confessed. “But I’m glad of it.”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve done any dark magic,” pointed out Belle. “Barely any magic at all, really. Maybe that’s why?”

“It’s as good a reason as any.” He shrugged.

Henry looked around, breathing deeply of the fresh air and noticing the quiet, the birds around them having fallen silent. “So, which way?” He hefted his sturdy canvas backpack higher onto his shoulders.

They’d stuck together until they’d reached a nearby town, where Rumpelstiltskin came to the conclusion that they were not in _their _Enchanted Forest, but another version of it. One that had not been decimated by a Dark Curse.

Henry had grinned broadly at the news. “That’s what I wanted. I wanted to see other versions of the characters I know.”

“Does that mean there’s another version of me here?” wondered Belle. “Another Rumpel?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” said Rumpelstiltskin.

They had bought a sensible cream-coloured mare called Lark for Henry – Belle putting her through her paces before letting Henry try her out – and two heavier-built horses to pull, in turns, the brightly-painted caravan they’d found – a bright chestnut mare with flaxen mane and tail called Penny and a bay gelding with splashy white stockings reaching up to his belly called Taliesin. The contents of Henry’s backpack shifted into a pair of saddlebags and a magic bean tucked safely away in an inside pocket of his jerkin, he hugged each one of them in turn and mounted up. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”

“Have fun and stay safe.” Belle smiled up at him, encouraging Tabitha to wave goodbye.

“Remember to call if you need anything,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “And let us know when you’re ready to go back to Storybrooke.”

“I will,” Henry promised. “Bye!” He’d touched his heels to Lark’s sides and lifted the reins, clucking to the mare, and they’d trotted off, leaving the rest of them to begin their own journeys.

It had been the perfect time of the year, with the late summer’s warmth easing into a gentle autumn. The harvest had been bountiful, and market stalls everywhere were full of fresh produce and newly-baked breads and jars of fruit preserves and honey, with which they filled the cabinet next to their little stove. It wasn’t long before the interior of the caravan had become a cozy, welcoming space, a mix of things from the old world and the new. Belle had wanted to visit the Frontlands, where they’d discovered that this world’s version of Belle had married a prince whom she had freed from a terrible curse and now lived at his castle. No one had recognised Rumpelstiltskin, though, or his name.

“Which means that I’m not your prince in this world – but maybe I’m not the Dark One either? Maybe I lived and died in my own timeline?”

“We could ask if anyone’s heard of the Dark One,” Belle suggested, although something about the idea made her uncomfortable. “Or just go see if the Dark Castle’s there, and who lives in it.”

“I don’t know. It might be courting trouble.” He wasn’t sure what bothered him most. The idea of another Dark One running around, or not knowing what had happened to him in this world. Except it was more about what had happened to Bae. _Had_ he had a son? And if he had, had he been conscripted to fight in the ogre war? If so, had he survived that? Had he died young or had he grown up to have a life and family of his own?

Since it turned out that her – Belle’s – father in this realm had been an inventor instead of a knight, there was no childhood home for her to stay at, or at least none that held any meaning for her, but the surrounding countryside had looked more or less the same, and she had happily shown Gideon and Tabitha around the places that were so similar to where she had grown up. There were a few awkward meetings with people who “recognised” her, but she soon had her explanation down pat, and she made an effort to avoid her counterpart in this world. The highlight of the trip was the day they had seen a griffin as they’d hiked through the forest. There had been a rustling in the trees above them, and Gideon had been the first to look up, his eyes growing wide as he’d realised what he was seeing.

“_Griffin_,” he’d hissed, pointing.

“Wha – ?”

“_Shhh_.” Gideon clapped his hand over Tabby’s mouth. “_Griffin_,” he’d repeated, whispering._ “Half lion, half eagle._”

“Just be quiet and don’t move,” Belle said softly, crouching down behind them both, putting an arm around each. “They have very good sight and hearing, but movement is what catches their attention most of all.”

Tabby had nodded her understanding and Gideon had released her, glad of his father’s reassuring presence at his side. After a moment the creature swooped down to the ground, all tawny gold flanks and twitching tail and cream-coloured feathers, and wickedly sharp talons and beak. They had all watched, silent and still, as it had curled up in a sunny spot in the glade they had just been about to enter and began to groom itself. They hadn’t moved until finally it had put its head down and closed its eyes, apparently falling asleep, when they had backed away and left, circling around the glade before they had felt safe to resume talking again at their normal volume.

The days turned shorter, and cooler, the trees turning vibrant shades of red and gold. When frost began to appear on the grass in the mornings, they discussed what to do for the winter. Belle was ready to move on, should they find somewhere snug to hole up until the spring? Travel south, to warmer lands? She came up with the idea of visiting Arendelle instead, where she bumped into Anna and called her by name before remembering this wasn’t the Anna that she knew.

“I’m sorry; do I know you?’ Anna had asked.

Belle had shook her head. “You do and you don’t – it’s a long story.”

“Oh, I like stories!” Anna had said cheerfully “Tell me it?”

When Belle had finished her explanation, Anna had looked at them shrewdly. “So you don’t think magic is bad?”

“Not inherently, no,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “But all magic comes with a price. May I guess – is your sister having trouble controlling her powers?”

“Yes!” Anna exclaimed with relief. “We’re working on it, but –”

“Rumpel, could you help her?” Belle interrupted.

“Yes, I probably could. I have some experience dealing with magic myself,” he explained to Anna, and her face lit up.

“Really? That would be awesome! Thank you! Can you come home with me now? We could give you dinner and everything.”

Elsa had been at first wary of accepting magic lessons from a stranger, but by the end of the night she had felt for the first time the hope that she might eventually learn to completely control her powers and had invited Rumpelstiltskin and his family to stay with them. Rumpelstiltskin had accepted, giving her daily lessons, Gideon and Tabitha falling in love with the reindeer and spending hours building snowmen and snow forts, and learning how to ice skate and sledding and going on sleigh rides. And inside there were always warm fires where one could read or listen to stories or simply snuggle up in a blanket and daydream while watching the sparks dance. They had left a much more confident, controlled, and happy Elsa in the spring and began making their way south again.

They traveled as the whim took them, seeking out natural wonders and strange creatures, visiting all the places that Belle had once dreamed about, until the sun-baked days of summer began to make the caravan uncomfortably stuffy instead of cozy, and Gideon and Tabitha took it in turns riding in front of Belle on whichever horse was not currently in harness, while Rumple drove, temporarily trading the relief of the shade for some slightly fresher air moving against their faces, and everybody growing more and more crabby and short-tempered.

“It’d be cool in the Dark Castle,” Belle suggested finally, a topic which had been shut down swiftly the last time it had been brought up. 

Rumpelstiltskin’s face grew shuttered. “We don’t know if it’s even there, or unoccupied. And you know that’s where she –”

“For the first, there’s only one way to find out. And for the second, I also know that’s where we fell in love,” said Belle gently. “If it’s empty – maybe it’s time to try to exorcise that particular demon? Maybe it won’t even look that same, but if being there makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to stay, we don’t have to, but perhaps we could at least visit? Maybe it would help to banish the bad memories, to see Gideon and Tabby running around there? We could even camp in the gardens, if inside is too painful. Or at least stay there in the mountains till the weather cools.”

So they had headed for the lands surrounding the Dark Castle, and found the same village at the foot of the mountain. It had been market day, and Belle had looked around the sellers, choosing an old woman who was chatting garrulously with a customer. The counters of her booth held baskets filled with beautifully dyed skeins of wool. “The spinner,” Belle said, pointing, when the woman’s customer had left.

Rumpelstiltskin followed with the children as she led the way, knowing that they needed information before approaching the castle but not quite knowing the best way to go about it. Belle obviously had no problem with it, however, for after complimenting the woman on her goods, she got right to the point.

“Have you ever heard of someone called the Dark One?” she asked boldly.

“Ah, now that’s one of my favourite stories, always has been,” the woman said, her eyes twinkling, and that was not the reaction that either of them had been expecting.

“What do you mean?” asked Belle cautiously.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, we’re travelers, and we heard the name…”

“Well, famous local legend, I’m not surprised. And who doesn’t love a story about true love?”

Belle glanced at Rumpelstiltskin, smiling, and Gideon bounced on his toes, filled with the secret knowledge that she was talking about another version of his parents. “Tell us!”

“Well, the Dark One was a powerful wizard, but he wasn’t always like that. Once he was but a humble spinner, like myself, but he took on a curse to save his son from being drafted in the Ogre War. Terrible it was, but they were down to taking children to fight, having run out of trained soldiers. It was a death sentence, of course, and the man who became the Dark One knew it. Now the Dark One at that time was in thrall to the Duke of these lands, and was forced to do terrible, terrible things. He was tired of life, tired of being cursed, and he tricked the spinner into stealing the dagger that controlled him and killing him, thus passing on the curse to the spinner. Now the new Dark One, the spinner, took his power and used it to end the war, saving not only his son but bringing all the children home.”

Rumpelstiltskin was stunned to hear that all the details of his life were not only the same so far, but were being accurately recounted. He felt Belle slip her hand into his, and he squeezed it gratefully.

“So he was good,” Gideon said with satisfaction. “Then what happened?”

“Well, all magic has a price, you know, and the power changed him, both inside and out. His fingernails grew long and sharp and black, as black as his rotted teeth, and skin turned as scaly as a lizard’s.” She curled her fingers like claws and made a menacing gesture at Gideon, who automatically leaned back slightly but then grinned. It was obvious the old woman was a storyteller in full flow, enjoying having a new audience. “And he was quick to anger, quick to strike out. Although perhaps it was simply that he finally had the power to act against those who had made his life miserable before, who had mocked him and called him coward.”

She paused, and Belle had the sense that she was waiting for a certain question, that she had told this story many times before to her own children and grandchildren. “Why did they call him coward?’ she asked softly.

“Because he’d lamed himself to get out of the army,” she said promptly. “Took a great big sledgehammer and smashed his own leg.”

Gideon winced visibly, and Rumpelstiltskin began to wonder how she knew all this, things that had been long forgotten by anyone but himself as he had outlived the villagers who had once known him as an ordinary man.

“That sounds painful,” Gideon said sympathetically, and the woman nodded.

“I’m sure it was! Very painful! He might have lost part of his leg, for all he knew! Personally, I’d rather take the chance of getting killed by an ogre in battle than the surety of living with a horrifically mangled leg, in pain, every day for the rest of my life. So why do you think he did it?”

“Maybe,” said Gideon carefully, “He had a family at home who needed him.”

“Right you are!” The woman beamed at him. “Do you know what had happened? A seer had told him that his wife was pregnant, but he would die if he went on the battlefield the next day. And he didn’t want his child to have to grow up without a father, like he had, after his own no-good father had abandoned him as a child.” Scorn dripped from her voice, but it was obviously for Malcolm. “Can you imagine that, your daddy just up and leaving you?”

“Never,” said Gideon stoutly, and Rumpelstiltskin squeezed his son’s shoulder, filled with a rush of love. “I think what the spinner did was brave, not cowardly.” Belle looked at Rumpelstiltskin oddly, realising that this woman knew an awful lot about his story that certainly hadn’t been common knowledge in her time. He raised his shoulders helplessly. But as disquieting as it was to hear his life story recounted by a stranger, as least she seemed to understand, and be on his side – or at least, this other Dark One.

“That’s what I think, too,” said the old woman, “But most people didn’t. He was sent home in disgrace from the army when he was healed enough to be able to walk, although a slow, painful walk it was, hobbling along with a stick for support. News had flown ahead of him, though, and he came home to a wee baby boy and a wife who hated him for what he had done.”

“She was mean!” Gideon said heatedly, defending his father. “He had done it for her, for her and the baby!”

“So he had, but she didn’t see it that way, nor care much for being a mother. But Rumpelstiltskin – did I tell you his name was Rumpelstiltskin? Funny ol’ name, isn’t it? – oh, how he loved being a father! He never regretted what he had done, because it meant he could be there for his son, to raise him and love him as fiercely as he knew how.”

Rumpelstiltskin felt a lump form in his throat, as his actions were validated by a perfect stranger.

“And then what happened?” prompted Belle, squeezing Rumpel’s hand.

“Well, eventually his wife leaves them, runs off with a pirate.” The woman sounded like she wanted to turn her head and spit. “And he’s left to struggle all alone, raising his boy. But he does it, until the day came when he became the Dark One. And then it wasn’t a struggle any longer, because they weren’t poor anymore, one of his powers being the ability to spin straw into gold. So he buys them a fine new house, and fine new clothes, and there’s good food, and plenty of it, on the table. But…his son wasn’t happy. He could see the darkness taking over his father, turning him into someone frightening and strange, someone who could kill without a thought. He wanted his old papa back. So he called on the Blue Fairy, and he asked her what he could do.”

Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t quite keep the snarl from escaping his throat.

The old woman looked at him with surprise but continued with her story. “And what do you think she said?” she asked, looking at Gideon.

“That they needed to go to a land without magic?” he suggested.

The woman frowned. “What? No. She asked him if he still loved his father, and he said yes. And she said that True Love’s Kiss could break any curse.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked at Belle, startled. Could it have been that simple? Could the Blue Fairy of this realm actually be someone who wanted to help people?

“Do you mean that B – “ Gideon caught himself, remembering that she hadn’t mentioned the son’s name. “– the son kissed his father, and it broke his curse?”

“He did indeed. And they lived happily ever after. And do you know how I know all this?”

“You said it was a famous local legend,” Belle reminded her.

“Yes, but who’s been telling it all these years, passing it down from one generation to another?”

Rumpelstiltskin had the first inkling of a guess. “What happened to the boy, the son?”

“He grew up, married his childhood sweetheart, and they had a flock of kids.”

“And you’re – “

“His great great granddaughter.” She beamed at them.

Rumpelstiltskin’s head was spinning. Bae had lived, had married, had had children. Presumably had died at a ripe old age, as the old woman had said they had lived happily ever after. And this other Rumpel had been there to see it all, to be part of it. There had been no separation. He wanted to cry.

“Wow. That’s an incredible story. Thank you for sharing it,” Belle said. She glanced at Rumpelstiltskin, and saw that he had pressed his face into Tabby’s soft curls, his eyes closing briefly to hide his reaction.

“But…” Gideon’s brow was furrowed, until he remembered that in this world, his mother had married somebody else, that his father – well, sort of – hadn’t lived long enough to meet her. But he had been happy, and his uncle Bae had been too. So he guessed it was all right. “Did the spinner ever marry again?”

“As a matter of fact he did. He became friends with a widow woman who was struggling to raise her daughter on her own. He soon doted on the wee lass, and loved her like she was his own.They say it was a marriage of convenience at first, his son needing a mother and her daughter needing a father, but there are worse things to base a marriage on than friendship. And after a while, love grew and they had a very happy marriage by all accounts.”

“Oh.” Rumpelstiltskin was taken aback, but glad for his other self. “Well, that was nice for all of them.” Bae would have loved a little sister, he thought. “I guess the talent for spinning has stayed in the family, then,” said Rumpelstiltskin, recovering and bringing himself back to the present.

“Not gold, but worth a few coppers, eh? See anything you like?”

Rumpelstiltskin would have given her a silver coin just for her story, but he knew such largesse would raise suspicions as to his identity, and he also knew the satisfaction that came with having one’s hard work appreciated. He shifted Tabby in his arms so that she could see the yarns. “What colours do you like, sweetheart? We could use them to make you a new sweater for autumn.”

Tabby picked out some soft greens and a lovely shade of plum.

“That’ll be twelve coppers,” the woman said, and Rumpelstiltskin gave her the silver coin, worth twice that.

“For the yarn and the story,” he said. “One more question – a flock?”

“Well, four. Which is quite enough with children, mind you.”

“What about the castle, though?” asked Gideon, remembering what they really wanted to know about.

“What castle? The one up on the mountain?”

“Yes.”

“That was where the previous Dark One lived, not my ancestor. Nobody’s lived there since, nobody would dare. And who’d want to anyway? Think of all those rooms to clean!”

Belle smirked. “You’d need a maid.”

“Several, I should think! Or magic, I guess.”

Rumpelstiltskin shared a look with Belle, and grinned. “Thank you for everything – may I ask your name?”

“Jennet, and you’re welcome. Nice to have new ears for my old stories.”

“That’s a lovely name,” said Belle. She took Gideon’s hand. “Come on Gideon, let’s go.”

The long-abandoned castle was a mess. A window had broken, and dirt and debris lay all over the Great Hall, and piles of leaves where animals had come in and made a dens for themselves. Things had fallen over, been smashed, begun to rot. The place was both familiar and unfamiliar, but that could be fixed. When Rumpelstiltskin automatically raised his hand, intending to set the castle back to rights in an instant, Belle had grabbed it and shook her head.

“No magic. We do this by hand.”

“Could I just mend the window?” he asked meekly. “We don’t want a bear or a wolf wandering in and carrying off the children.”

“Oh, all right,” she agreed.

With a quick gesture, he mended the window, then pivoted around, his hand still raised, and all the windows in sight became sparkling clean as well.

“Rumpel!” she chided.

“We need light to work,” he explained, unrepentant, and she had sighed.

They had all pitched in, deciding what was ruined and what could be kept, Belle allowing Rumpelstiltskin to provide a little magical assistance in conveying the trash outside as she realised that there was no way they would be able to shift some very heavy furniture otherwise without breaking it into smaller pieces. When they’d cleared out as much as possible from the kitchen, Great Hall, and two bedrooms, they set to work sweeping and mopping and polishing and dusting, Gideon sturdily helping until he was too tired, and then proving invaluable in keeping Tabby entertained and out of trouble. It was so obviously not _his_ Great Hall that the image of a cage, of being trapped in it and at Zelena’s mercy, simply didn’t impose itself upon this place, for which he was profoundly grateful. And despite the fact that they had never lived in this particular Dark Castle, between all their hard work in cleaning it and seeing Gideon and Tabby running around it, by the time it – or at least those rooms they’d concentrated on – was habitable, they had made it into their place. They could tackle the rest of the castle at a more leisurely pace. The hardest thing, in fact, was how difficult he found it to abstain from magic in a place where it had been his whole life. It prickled under his skin, kept his fingers constantly twitching with the urge to clean up, or summon meals, or place protection spells on the children to keep them from touching anything dangerous. There wasn’t the huge collection of magical objects on display here that he had accumulated in their own realm, if this castle had belonged to a version of Zoso, then he would have been a mere pawn who had been kept dancing attendance on the duke who held his dagger, but he didn’t know what might be hidden away, waiting to be found.They’d had a conversation with the children about the price of magic, and how it should never be used without good reason, but after that Gideon had quickly learned the tell-tale movements his father made when about to do magic, and hearing his 7 year-old son pipe up with a chiding “PAPA, NO” did more than anything to remind Rumpelstiltskin why he was avoiding using magic in the first place. Once the castle was back in order again, they made it their home base for the summer, but spent just as much time outdoors as in, in the gardens or exploring further out, the air in the mountains pleasant enough compared to the lowlands. They headed back down to more populated lands in time for the harvest festivals, joining in the singing and dancing and feasting that they offered, and Belle suggested visiting Sherwood, and seeing how Roland fared, even though they knew it wouldn't be the same Roland they had known as a small boy.

In place of the cherubic child they remembered, they found a lean young man of striking good looks, but the dark, wavy hair was the same, as were the dimples that appeared in his cheeks when he smiled. And that was often, for life had been kinder to him in this realm, and both his parents still lived, and were still very much in love to Belle's delight, Robin and Marian themselves had been the ones to stop their caravan as they had driven into the heart of Sherwood, Rumpelstiltskin and Belle having their tale ready -- that they were merely travelers who had hoped to meet the infamous outlaws whom they had heard so much of, out of curiousity. An offering of a gold coin to pay for a meal and a story had earned themselves an invitation to dinner that had turned into a several day stay, Belle and Marian hitting it off right away, Marian obviously glad of another woman to talk to and soon making friends with the children. Before they left, Gideon had had his first lessons with a bow and had learned to tickle trout. 

In the winter they journeyed south to Agrabah, and then spent a while on the nearest coast, all white sands and blue waters, where the children could paddle in the warm waters and Tabitha learned to swim. As spring approached, though, their occasional thoughts of Henry solidified into a worry that they couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I mean it’s good that he hasn’t had any need to call on you,” said Belle. “But I’m surprised that we haven’t heard from him yet. It’s been almost two years!”

“We should have told him about messenger doves,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “Let’s head back towards the Enchanted Forest and we can send one.”

_Where are you?,_ they’d sent, as soon as Rumpelstiltskin was able to call a dove to him. It returned several days later, and Rumpelstiltskin held it gently while Belle untied the scroll of paper that had been attached to its leg. 

“What does it say?” he asked, releasing the bird. It hopped onto a nearby branch.

Belle unrolled the paper. “_Tiana’s kingdom. Married Cinderella _–

“_What_?”

“ – _Having a baby. Come visit_.” Belle glanced up with wide eyes, meeting Rumpelstiltskin’s own dumbfounded look. 

“Surely he’s joking,” he hazarded, unable to wrap his head around the idea of Henry having not only gotten married but in the role of expectant father. 

“There’s only one way to find out. Do you know where Tiana’s kingdom is?”

He did, and they arrived to find all was as Henry had said, and Regina already there. Gideon ran to Henry, who bent down to hug him. 

“Hey, kid! I missed you. And look at you, Tabby, how big you’ve grown! Do you remember me?”

Once their reunion was over, they settled down for tea and to exchange stories. 

“Henry told Emma, and Emma told me, and I decided my family was here,” Regina said, smiling at Henry and Ella, visibly pregnant. 

“Where is Emma?’ asked Belle. 

Regina shrugged. “Still in Storybrooke. She’s a 21st century girl – this isn’t really her scene. And besides, someone has to look after the place now that I’m gone. But the mirror link works, so she and Henry get to talk every week.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t invite us to your wedding,” Rumpelstiltskin said indignantly, looking at Henry. 

“You didn’t invite me to _your _wedding,” Henry accused him. “And I thought the magical summoning thing was only for emergencies. I didn’t want you to think I was in danger and you had to come immediately and leave Belle and the kids alone.” 

Rumpelstiltskin looked abashed. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking clearly back then. It happened spur of the moment, and…” He shook his head. “Would you have come, would you have been my best man if I had asked?”

“Of course!” Henry exclaimed. “I would have been honoured. And I’m glad you came looking for me; I’m glad you’re here now.”

“So am I. I wouldn’t miss the birth of my great-granddaughter for the world.” He glared at Regina. “You could have found me, once you came. Or told Henry about messenger doves. Why didn’t you?”

“I…just didn’t think about it, I guess. I’m sorry; I should have.” 

She sounded genuinely contrite and Rumpelstiltskin accepted the apology. “Well, no matter. We’re here now.”

Lucy was born three months later, and after mother and baby had had a rest, Rumpelstiltskin got a chance to hold her for the first time.”Hello, sweetheart,” he said softly, cradling her in expert arms. “I’m your great-grandpa.” He made a face at Lucy and was rewarded by her reaching out to grab at his nose with her tiny fingers. His face split into a grin, Belle smiling as she waited her turn to hold Lucy. After a few more minutes he gently handed the baby to Belle as she held her arms out.

They’d stayed for a while longer, until it was clear that the new parents could handle things on their own and that perhaps Henry and Ella might like more chances to be alone than they could get with five guests staying with them. The kids had grown restless by then, Gideon especially chafing under the need to be quiet when the baby was sleeping and missing the Henry who used to have time to play with him. With Regina staying, they didn’t feel like they were leaving Henry and his new family alone or unprotected.

“But now you know about doves,” Rumpelstiltskin said as they said their goodbyes a few days later, embracing Henry and thumping him on the back. “Stay in touch. And take care of that little daughter of yours; they grow up all too fast.”

“I will,” Henry promised.

They took to the road again, the years waxing and waning and the children growing and thriving. They began talking of the future; the caravan was becoming more cramped than cosy and Gideon old enough that he wanted some space of his own to be private in. They could buy a house near Henry, they suggested. Or maybe it was time to return to the Land Without Magic, while the children were still young enough to adapt more easily. They were still unsettled as to a decision the day that they’d passed through a town large enough to have a school for boys. They had been walking by its fenced-in yard when the door of the school had opened and boys of all ages had come streaming out, running and yelling. Some had quickly formed up into teams and had begun kicking a ball around, another group of younger boys had pulled out long strings of shiny conkers from their pockets and had begun their game of trying to hit and smash their opponent’s conker not far from where they were standing.

Gideon had pressed himself against the fence, his face coming alive with excitement. “Can I go play with them, Papa?”

Rumpelstiltskin glanced at Belle, unsure. “I don’t know; this is a school, and you’re not a student here.”

“Could I be?” Gideon’s eyes were still on the playing boys, and Rumpelstiltskin suddenly became more aware than ever that Gideon was growing up, that he was no longer a little boy who was content with his parents’ company and who might yearn for playfellows of his own age. In Austria, he had had the neighbour boy Felix to play with, and it had taken a long time after they had left before Gideon had stopped talking about his friend on a daily basis. And in Storybrooke he had quickly made friends with Neal Nolan, and had spent many a day playing on the Nolan’s farm with Neal and their dog Wilby.

“Would you like to be?” Belle asked, startled, but it touched on something that she and Rumpel had been discussing. So far, they felt that they’d been able to give Gideon a good general education, but he was reaching the age where he would really benefit from proper teachers in more specialised subjects. And if they were going to ever return to the Land Without Magic, should they be teaching them about its history, its world of science?

Gideon thought about it for a moment in his usual careful way. “I don’t know. What’s it like, going to school?”

“Well, I’ve never been and your Mama had private tutors, but you’d be learning things like what she and I teach you,” Rumpelstiltskin explained. “Reading and writing, and math and science and history, but you’d be learning them in a class with a bunch of other boys your own age. If it’s like the school that Henry went to, you’d go there in the morning, eat lunch there, and come home in the afternoon. Would you like that?”

Gideon scrunched up his face, thinking. “Yes, I think so.”

Belle’s heart gave a pang as she came to the same conclusion that Rumpelstiltskin had. Gideon needed – no, he _deserved_ – friends that he wouldn’t have to leave in a week or a month. And someplace to call home, some stability. “We’d have to ask some questions,” she said. “Find out if this is a good school, first of all. We could look for another, if not. And if they’re willing to accept a new pupil.” The boys looked happy and healthy enough, she thought, which seemed a good sign.

At that moment one of the smaller boys, perhaps a couple of years younger than Gideon, came wandering along the fence, eyes on the ground as he sought out any newly-fallen conkers from the huge horse chestnut tree in the corner of the yard, seizing on a couple and dropping them into a rough sack that he carried. Gideon, seeing what he was after, spotted a few of the spiky-hulled pods on their side of the fence and picked them up.

“Hey!” he called. “You want these?” He held them out.

The boy’s eyes lit up as he came over, big blue eyes in a pleasant, freckled face framed by thick brown hair. “Don’t you want them?”

Gideon shrugged. “You can have them.”

“Thanks!” The boy accepted the gift. “Oh, great, these two are already cracked.” He dropped them on the ground and drove the heel of his sturdy boot down onto first one and then the other, stooping to pick out the glossy brown conkers from the shattered hulls. He pocketed them and looked from Gideon to his parents and back again. “Are you new here?”

Rumpelstiltskin moved closer, holding onto Tabby’s hand. She squatted down and picked up a stick to play with, swishing it back and forth through the air. From the muttering under her breath, Rumpel thought that she might be playing fairy wands. “We might be. Can you tell me, is this a good school?”

The boy’s nose wrinkled up. “I guess so. Most of the masters are pretty nice, as long as you do your work and don’t act up in class. And we get playtime every day.”

“What about subjects?” asked Belle. “What are you taught?”

The boy shrugged. “The usual stuff, I suppose. Sums, and writing.” He brightened. “We’re doing botany right now. Do you know what that is?”

“The study of plants.” Rumpelstiltskin smiled.

”Yes. Like these –” He took one of the conkers out of his pocket. “It looks like it would be good to eat, like a regular chestnut, doesn’t it? But it’s not; it’s poisonous. Eat it and you’d _die_,” he said with relish.

“That’s very true,” said Belle. “And important information to know.”

“Like with mushrooms,” Gideon agreed. “Some you can eat, some you can’t, and sometimes they’re hard to tell apart.”

“Yep.” The boy nodded. “Hey, do you know the difference between poisonous and venomous?”

Gideon thought for a moment. “Well – “

The boy didn’t wait for an answer. “If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If _it _bites you and you die, it’s venomous.”

Gideon laughed. “Like snakes.”

“That’s actually a very good definition,” Belle approved. She looked around. It was a pleasant-looking town, tidy and prosperous, the sign for a booksellers visible directly across the street from the school. She could be happy here, she thought. 

“It’s up to you, Belle,” Rumpelstiltskin said, watching her.

“Well, if we talk to the headmaster and everything sounds good and he’s agreeable, then if Gideon wants to go to school here, than Gideon shall go to school here,” she said firmly.

“I don’t have to go to school, do I?” Tabby looked up, sounding faintly alarmed.

“Do you want to?” Belle asked.

“No,” she declared in a very decided fashion.

Belle laughed. “Then you can continue to stay at home and keep me company," she assured her daughter.

“All right, let’s go find the headmaster,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

“His name’s Master Jerrold,” the boy supplied. He eyed Gideon. “You’d probably be in the class ahead of me, but I could still show you around if you like. If you start coming here.”

“Well, thank you, Master – “ Rumpelstiltskin hesitated. “May I ask your name?”

“Roderick.”

Rumpelstiltskin and Belle shared a startled look, barely hearing Gideon introducing himself in turn. Gideon, in the brief time they’d known him as an adult, hadn’t told them much about his time in the Dark Realm, but he had shared a name, a name of a boy that he felt that he had failed. Surely it couldn’t be the same boy…could it? Could the lives of all the stolen children have been reset as Gideon’s had been? Gideon, blessedly free of any memories of his time there, was oblivious, showing no reaction to the name.

“Well, Roderick, thank you for the information and the kind offer,” Belle said, and the boy took that as his leave, waving as he ran off. She looked at Rumpelstiltskin, her voice low. “It’s got to be a coincidence, right?’

“Has to be,” he replied, just as softly, but not sounding entirely certain. But.._.He died_, he could still hear Gideon say, his voice wrecked. It wasn’t a particularly unusual name; it was just that the age was right. A couple of years younger than him, Gideon had said. He shook his head. “I don’t see how it could be otherwise.”

Belle nodded. “But it feels like a good omen, though, doesn’t it? Like we’re meant to be here.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Gideon demanded, coming over.

Tabby tapped him with her stick.“Be a frog!” she commanded.

“Ribbit,” he said automatically, but he wasn’t in the mood to play, watching his parents.

“Oh, we were just thinking that maybe it’s time to put down some roots,” Belle deflected, ruffling his hair.

* * *

Master Jerrold had turned out to be pleasant and welcoming, and his curriculum having passed muster, they’d enrolled Gideon, and he’d taken to formal schooling like a duck to water, soon excelling in the classroom and making friends amongst the boys, his long legs making him a popular choice when the boys divided up into teams to play football during their afternoon break. They’d found the perfect house for them on the edge of town, made of the local warm yellow stone, with a walled garden and a fenced-in field behind the house that was perfect for Taliesin and Penny. There were separate bedrooms for Gideon and Tabitha, a water pump right in the kitchen, and even a room that had obviously been a library, its bare shelves waiting to be filled with books. In fact, it had seemed almost _too _perfect, but when Rumpelstiltskin had run a finger through the dust on the kitchen table and asked the property owner why the place had obviously lain vacant for some time, the man had shrugged and said that most business people lived above their shops, and newly wedded couples looking to start a home of their own usually wanted something smaller and cheaper. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation, and it wasn’t till the year turned and the spring days grew ever warmer that they discovered that the smell from the nearby tannery – something that they had soon grown used to over the fall and the winter – intensified into a pungent reek with the heat.

But since by then the house had become a home, moving seemed unimaginable, especially as Gideon had delightedly discovered on their very first day that Roderick was the tanner’s son, the boys’ friendship soon leading to Rumpelstiltskin and Belle becoming friends with the tanner and his wife. So they simply spent the worst days within the confines of the walled garden, surrounded by the fragrant scents of lilacs and roses and wisteria, and Belle had agreed that perhaps a tiny whisper of magic to keep the smell out of the house was allowable. Hopefully the price was no more than the renewed shock of the briefly-forgotten smell when they ventured outside again in the morning. Roderick became an even more frequent visitor on those hot, still days, expressing his puzzlement that the smell didn’t carry inside but glad of it. Midway in age between Gideon and Tabitha, he was a welcome playfellow, amenable to both the rough-and-tumble play that Gideon had been craving and Tabby’s more imagination-based games. Midsummer came and went, and the boys’ school closed down until September.

“Master Jerrold says we’re all too hot and sleepy to learn anything in summer,” Gideon said. “We just have to write a paper on something that interests us over the holiday.”

It didn’t take long for Belle to suggest a trip, and Rumpelstiltskin had sought Master Jerrold’s advice on places of interest in the region that they might visit. He’d already learned that the man had an excellent library of his own, and Jerrold was kind enough to lend him a volume on the history and geography of the area. Belle had seized upon the book happily, and they had worked out an itinerary for their trip. With their caravan freshly washed and loaded, they had put Penny between its shafts, and set out with Gideon riding Taliesin bareback alongside them.

And now here they were, on the bridge that they had read of, the tales associated with it having gotten Rumpelstiltskin to thinking. Maybe it was a foolish hope to think that it would be that easy, but he could feel the energy surrounding the place. And they had to start somewhere.

“What if it doesn’t work?” asked Belle, concern large in her eyes.

He shrugged. “Then we try something else. Maybe I should just chuck the dagger in the river.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good idea,” she said dubiously.

“Well, then you’d better put some effort into your kiss,” he teased.

Belle smirked, and threaded her fingers into the silky, feathered hair that fell past his collar. “I’ll do my best.” She gazed into his eyes, remembering that first kiss back in the Dark Castle, the absolute conviction she’d had that he loved her as much as she loved him, despite nothing having ever been said on the subject. Now she had years of memories, so many years of_ knowing_ to call upon, image after image flitting through her brain as he bent his head down to her, their lips touching. Their heads tilted in synchronization, finding the perfect angle, and Belle felt Rumpel’s arms come around her as their breaths mingled and she concentrated as hard as she could. _I love you_, she thought._ I will always love you._

Rumpel felt the first tingle of magic, but was afraid to let go, to stop kissing Belle, lest it be too soon. _Go_, he thought at the Dark Ones._ I don’t want you, I don’t need you. Just Belle. Belle and Gideon and Tabby._ He tightened his arms around Belle, as a fierce pang lanced through him. _And_ _Bae. Oh, son.._. He felt the magic strengthen, and then it _flared_, strongly enough to cause him to jerk back in shock 

Belle’s eyes flew open and she surveyed him anxiously. “What happened? Did it work?”

Rumpelstiltskin took a deep breath. He felt lighter, somehow. Hesitantly he probed for the voices; they’d gone mostly dormant after he’d given up using magic but he could always waken them with a thought. Now, nothing responded. Heart thudding in his chest, he reached down to pull out the dagger sheathed in his boot. Slowly he lifted it up so they could both see.

The blade was bare of any name.

“Rumpel! We did it!”

Belle flung her arms around him and he quickly moved the dagger off to his side. “Careful, you don’t want to be the next Dark One!” he chuckled, even as he hugged her back with one arm, a giddy sense of freedom sweeping through him.

“Oh! Is it still cursed? Or did we destroy it altogether?”

He hesitated. The blade felt inert to him. But he could still feel the energy surrounding the bridge, buzzing now even more strongly than before. “I think… it’s gone from the dagger. If the Dark One still exists in any shape or form, it’s no longer bound to the dagger. If anything, it went back to the Vault and is safely contained there, with no way to summon it out. But I think…I think that it’s been finally laid to rest. But better safe than sorry, I’m not about to stab someone to find out.”

He sheathed the dagger back in his boot. thinking he would bury it somewhere. Maybe beneath the foundation of a building, let it be covered by tons of brick or stone. He didn’t want to see it ever again in his lifetime, but he didn’t want to take any chances that even the smallest shard of the curse might still cling to it and be discovered by someone else. “Belle?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you feel the magic here?”

Her smile changed to a frown. “You mean at this bridge? I felt like this was someplace special, when we came here, like I could believe the stories about it? But not specifically magic, no. What do you feel?”

“It was like a low-level humming when we first got here; now it’s crackling with new energy. But if I could feel it then, when I was still the Dark One, and I can still feel it now…”

He held out his palm. The fire didn’t come to him with barely a thought, as it used to. He had to think it into being, as he had taught Regina and Cora and Zelena to think it into being. But it came, a small fireball forming in the air directly above his hand, hot but not burning.

“You can still do magic,” Belle exclaimed. “Does that mean – “

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, grinning, as he closed his fist over the flames and extinguished them. “No, I’m not still the Dark One. It’s different, I can feel it, there’s not that endless well of power on tap. But my mind still knows how to harness energy and emotion and transform it, and there’s a lot of it in the air here right now. Don’t worry, I’m not going to abuse it, but it’s still nice to know that I have some skill left in that area if it’s ever needed.”

“Well, I’m glad, then.” She took his hands in hers. “What about Henry, though? You won’t be able to hear him if he calls for you, will you?”

“No, that was something that came with the curse. I think he’s proven that he can take care of himself, but still, we should visit and tell him the news. He needs to know that if he runs into trouble, I won’t be able to show up at his call. It’ll be nice to see them, anyway; Lucy must be starting to walk by now.” They’d visited a couple of times, but it had been almost a year now.

“It still seems hard to believe sometimes that Henry ended up staying here,” Belle observed. “Do you think he’ll ever go back? Do you think we will?”

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. “I don’t know. There are some things I miss, but the children are happy, and so are we. Maybe we should try to convince Henry and Ella to move someplace closer to us.”

Rumpelstiltskin and Belle had reached the bottom of the bridge when the bushes ahead of them rustled and Gideon popped back out. “Aren’t you _coming_?” he demanded. “We found something that we want to show you!”

“Where’s Tabby?” asked Belle, when she didn’t appear behind Gideon. “We’ve got something to tell you.”

“Can it wait? They might leave. Hurry!”

“You left her behind?” Rumpelstiltskin demanded, picking up his pace. “And what do you mean by ‘_they_’?”

“It’s not far, and she promised not to move from the spot where I left her.” Gideon’s eyes danced with delight.. “And I’m not telling, it’s a surprise.” He turned and began weaving back through the trees, glancing back to make sure that they were following. 

Rumpelstiltskin and Belle looked at one another and Belle shrugged with a smile and took Rumpel’s hand as they followed their son. If Gideon felt that it was safe to leave Tabby, she undoubtedly was. “I bet it’s some baby animals,” she guessed shrewdly, and though Gideon didn’t say anything, the look on his face as he glanced back was telling.

“Twin fawns?” suggested Rumpelstiltskin.

“Fox kits playing in front of their den?” hazarded Belle.

Gideon’s excitement seemed to warrant something more out of the ordinary, though. “Unicorns?” Rumpelstiltskin asked doubtfully. Not aggressive usually, but a mother guarding her foal might take even a little girl for a threat. Still, both children knew not to approach any wildlife, to watch from a distance only.

Gideon grinned and put his finger to his lips, cautioning silence, as he slowed his steps, taking care where he put his feet. Belle glanced ahead and saw Tabby sitting cross-legged on the ground beside a large tangle of blackberry vines, scratching a unicorn foal whose head rested in her lap contentedly. The mother was nearby, nibbling at the berries, keeping one eye on them but obviously not too concerned.

Tabby looked up at their approach, her expression one of rapture. “I didn’t go up to it, I swear! He came to me, and I just reached out and stroked him, and he liked it and plopped right down!”

Gideon eased down beside her, but didn’t attempt to touch the unicorn, afraid he’d startle it away and ruin it for Tabby.

Rumpelstiltskin glanced at Belle helplessly, unsure what to do.

“Don’t look at me, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s your daughter, not mine.”

“What do you mean?” he protested, although he knew. Gideon was more like his mother, with his bold, inquisitive nature. Tabby was the quiet one, who could be happy playing by herself, who could hold still for an impossibly long time until a squirrel came down to take the sunflower seeds she held out in her open palm. She was the one who loved to watch him spin when he had a chance to do so, and was already developing a keen eye at spotting the plants needed to produce different dyes. The one who had declared to Joan, the tanner’s wife, that she was going to be a hedgewitch when she grew up. “You’re the one who tamed the beast.”

“Are you comparing yourself to an innocent little unicorn?” she teased.

He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Well, I was certainly horny enough in those days,” he said sotto voce. “And terribly confused by my maid when she seemed to _like _me. I was so certain that I was reading the signs wrong; that she must just be feeling pity for me.”

“Compassion, yes. But I was also admiring the way your leather pants fit.” Smirking, she ran a hand down over his backside to emphasise her point.

“I knew it,” he said sagely. “That’s the only reason you wanted to come back to the Enchanted Forest.”

“I can _hear_ you,” Gideon sing-songed.

Rumpelstiltskin grinned as he pulled Belle to stand in front of him, resting his chin on top of her head and putting his arms around her waist. “Sorry son. I can’t help it if your mother is an incorrigible flirt.”

“What’s that mean?” He finally dared to touch the unicorn foal, finding it liked to be scratched in the same places that the horses did.

“It means I believe in reminding my husband that I think he’s attractive,” Belle said firmly. That was one problem with traveling in the caravan, a lack of privacy.

Now that a second person was touching her baby, the mother unicorn came to investigate, lipping at Gideon’s hair. Gideon froze with a comical expression on his face, and Belle remembered her camera and quickly raised it, framing both children and the two unicorns in the shot. At the alien whir of the camera, the mother unicorn jerked up her head and moved back, calling to her foal. He scrambled to his feet and got up to follow her.

“I’m sorry, Tabby,” Belle apologised. “I didn’t mean to frighten them away.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “My hand was getting tired anyway.” She jumped up. “Did you get the picture? Let me see!”

She and Gideon came crowding around, exclaiming as the picture came into being.

Belle suddenly giggled. “Rumpel, do you remember – “

“Saying that a unicorn wouldn’t eat Gideon, but it might nibble on his hair?” He laughed. “Yes, I do. I didn’t realise I was seeing the future at the time.”

“When was this?” Gideon demanded.

“Back in Storybrooke, before we came to the Enchanted Realms,” Belle said. She ruffled his hair. “Do you remember Storybrooke?”

“Yes, vaguely.”

“I don’t,” Tabby said. “Was I there?”

“Yes, but you were very young. Maybe one day we’ll go back there, but there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to come back here if we do. We have a magic bean to create a portal to go there, but we might not be able to return here if we left.” Even if there were a good supply of beans, returning to the exact same time and place might prove to be a challenge; the magic was tricky. Best not to risk it, not now. 

Tabby began besieging them with questions. Could she see the magic bean? What was Storybrooke like? Their big news was forgotten for the moment, to be remembered and told later in the quiet evening over supper. But it could wait. Right now, they had a life to live. And it was wonderful.


End file.
